


I Don't Feel Like Dancin'

by dorlgirl



Series: December Drabbles [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorlgirl/pseuds/dorlgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek comes home to a little floor show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Feel Like Dancin'

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from [I Don't Feel Like Dancin'](http://youtu.be/4H5I6y1Qvz0) by Scissor Sisters.

Oh, that was lovely. The perfect thing to come home to, actually. Derek smirked and set his laptop bag and jacket down, careful to not make any noise. He toed his shoes off next and slowly set his keys down on the hall table. 

It’s not like there was a real danger of Stiles hearing Derek shuffling around, given how loud the music was. Derek recognized the song and tried to contain his amused snort when Stiles stopped stirring whatever was in the pot and backed up a step to shimmy his hips, fingers pointed into a gun shape that he then wagged up and down.

What really made the picture he presented perfect to Derek was his outfit. Dark green boxer briefs stretched tight over his ass, thick, fuzzy socks on his feet, and an orange and blue flowered apron tied around his waist and neck. The trailing ends of the ties brushed tantalizingly over Stiles muscular rear end and tickled the backs of his thighs.

Derek leaned back against the wall of the kitchen to watch Stiles’ impromptu dance-off. He bit his lip when Stiles banged the spoon against the side of the pot to remove the excess liquid and brought it up in front of him as a makeshift microphone. Derek was impressed with how well Stiles could hit the high notes of the song, but he was _much_ more interested in the way his body was able to move with the beat.

Derek often thought that Stiles joints must be made of rubber. Honestly, how could anyone be that fluid in their movements? Derek had never seen someone move that smoothly. In fact, this was one of his favorite dance moves Stiles did. His body was moving in a constant sinuous wave from his shoulders to his knees. He sometimes wondered if Stiles took belly dancing lessons at some point because it was seriously unfair how freely (and sensuously) his body moved.

As the song started to wind down, Stiles started moving from side to side, getting his feet moving to the last verse before turning around to shimmy his ass toward to warmth of the stove. His yelp of surprise and the spoon flying at Derek’s face were worth the near injury when he saw a hot flush flare across Stiles’ cheeks. And when the flush spread down his throat and disappeared under the lacy border of his apron, Derek decided it was time to do something about the ache in his cock.

He snagged the strap of Stiles’ apron and pulled him forward into a wet, messy kiss. After reaching around to turn off the burner, he dug his fingers into Stiles ass and squeezed. 

“If you don’t feel like dancing, come to bed with me.”

Stiles huffed, still blushing bright from embarrassment and smacked Derek’s shoulder. 

“I need to finish dinner, you creeper.”

“Later. Right now, I need to fuck you while you wear that apron.”

Stiles laughter echoed down the hall as Derek picked him up in a fireman’s hold and hustled them down the hallway toward their bedroom.


End file.
